Thanks for the review, Ryulabird ^_^! Here's an update that may not have happened without it : ) ;

DISCLAIMER:
I don't own RK!



*Chapter 8*


When had he been drawn away? He longed to stay near the familiar, but a greater urge had driven him from the palace. Hardly knowing how, he was navigating the streets of Tokyo again - the buildings were new and the people strange. But it seemed that as he walked, the new buildings grew fainter in his vision, and he saw in their place their counterparts from the past.

Take the wide road heading north; then take the second turn on the left, followed immediately by another to the right... into a narrow and empty street where time appeared to have stood still. Tall trees, thick with age, cast deep soft shadows all around. He knew by heart the number of steps he should take, counted them off, noting gates and landmarks that he passed. Quite suddenly, he was standing before a pair of wooden gates, weathered a dull grey. His eyes scanned the faded and broken blue tiles before settling on the worn and cracked wooden plaque. He read out familiar words:

Kamiya Kasshin Ryu

*****

Kenshin felt he had lost all sense of time, staring at the plaque. A sudden burst of activity behind the gates caused him to look up, blinking... too late. He was promptly tripped up and trampled over by what felt like a herd of baby elephants. He opened one eye and caught a glimpse of 5 to 6 healthy young legs pounding up the path he had just come.

Hey you children! An old man called good-naturedly after them. The only response he received was scattered laughter and fading shouts of Sayonara, sensei!

I apologise for them, he chuckled as he offered a hand to the rather flat Kenshin. These youngsters are just so full of energy. He was dressed in a hakama and gi, his forehead beaded with sweat. His face was covered with fine lines and flecks of grey were sprinkled liberally through his hair.

He waited politely for Kenshin to dust himself down before asking, And was there something I could help you with, young man?

Kenshin's mind blanked out momentarily. He hadn't planned on coming here, hadn't even dared to think that the dojo would still exist in the present - afraid to find that it did not. But now he was here - he was reluctant to leave. It would be easy to say he was lost and be redirected elsewhere...but that would mean turning away from the most familiar thing he had laid eyes on since coming to the present. Uh... what did Miname say about that essay?

Ummm... research? he stumbled out eloquently. For school... History. Of kendo?!? Yowch. Kenshin winced internally. He used to be able to lie like a trooper when he had to - very handy for extricating oneself out of sticky situations without a fight - but as with other things, this skill had fallen out of use during his time at the dojo. Drat.

However, the old man's eyes had lit up at the words history of kendo, and he seemed not to notice or care that the young man's face was now as red as his hair.

Well well, you don't get many youngsters interested in history these days, he said happily, placing a hand on Kenshin's shoulder to guide him through the gates. You must have a real passion, young man. Very few people know or care to know of our obscure little school. oh, I'm getting a head of myself. He rubbed his forehead sheepishly, I am Myojin Kazuo, owner of this dojo. He bowed.

Kenshin began to feel like he knew what it would be like to be hit by a lightning bolt. Himura Kenshin, he bowed back, masking his recognition of the name.

Well then, Himura-san, come in, come in! Kazuo waved him through the gates. Kenshin stepped into the courtyard and nearly reeled as his two realities seemed to collide. Everything looked exactly as he remembered. Kazuo didn't give him a chance to pass out though, eagerly ushering him into one of the rooms, calling out for tea.

In no time at all, Kenshin was kneeling opposite Kazuo, steaming cups of tea in front of them.

A history project eh? mused Kazuo to himself. So tell me, are you from the university or are you still in high school?

Kenshin sweatdropped massively.

Oh ha ha! What am I saying... of course you're not in high school, you're not in uniform, the old man leaned forward winking at Kenshin, tapping his head with a finger, Pretty sharp for a retired old man eh? Ehehehe...

Um. Yes, from the university. Kenshin smiled blandly, taking a sip from his cup of tea. Inwardly, he was nearly flying apart. Having to suppress the de gozarus and was harder then he thought! However, here he was, and it was too good an opportunity to miss. He recalled his resolution to ensure Kaoru's ultimate happiness and wandered if he might be able glean some information from Kazuo.

Do you think you could begin by telling me about the origins of this school, Myojin-do--san?

Hum. Let me see what I can recall... Kazuo thought hard, I inherited this dojo from my father, who in turn inherited it from his father, that is, my grandfather. My grandfather, who by the way, was the best proponent of our style - his form was supposedly perfect - my grandfather inherited it from the family that adopted him. In fact, it is in memory of their name that we still call this place the Kamiya dojo. The style itself was developed by a Kamiya Koshijiro, and the primary philosophy underlying its every form is the sword that protects. I can bring you to the training hall and show you the basic form set if you like,

About your grandfather... Kenshin interjected gently

Myojin Yahiko, supplied Kazuo.

Myojin Yahiko, Kenshin repeated. What I meant to say was, whatever happened to the Kamiya family? Didn't they have any.. descendants? His tone was casual, and he looked for all the world as if he bore no more than a passing academic interest in the answer to his question.

Kazuo knitted his brows together in thought. Mind, I'm not familiar with the details myself. I do know that Kamiya Koshijiro had only one child, a daughter. After his death, she ran the dojo although at the time she had only reached the status of adjunct master to the style. She was the person who adopted my grandfather and later relinquished the dojo into his keeping. I'm not sure if she had children or not. If she had, they didn't learn the Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. At any rate, the Kamiya name would have died with her.

Kenshin nodded. It was frustrating to hear bits and pieces, to learn only the broadest facts and not to hear the details. Odd as well to feel so removed from his friends, to hear them being spoken of in revered tones as respected but impersonal ancestors.

You know, young man, Kazuo said suddenly, I can tell you a great deal about the philosophy of our school, where it draws its influences and such things concerning kendo. But as for the people behind it, I'm afraid I never really paid much attention. However, my father was a hoarder and never threw a thing away - we let him use the shed as his storehouse. Now he's gone, I find I can't bare to empty it myself. Perhaps there will be something in there that may be of use to you?

I would like to see it, thank you. However, it was obvious that Kazuo was dying to show him the training hall first, so he agreed to come back the next day to look around the shed.

*****

Hey, you're late! Miname pounced on Kenshin the moment he walked through the door, grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him hard. She had experienced the strangest 2 hours waiting for him, realising that for the first time in her life, she was worried for someone other than herself. Idiot!!! I'm starving! She pushed him into the kitchen and stood back, crossing her arms, scowling darkly.

Kenshin had been thinking deeply, and the abrupt shaking had roused him from his thoughts. Miname's actions spoke louder than words. He knew that she hadn't had to miss dinner as it was always served in the main house.

But all he said was Sumanai, Miname-dono and started dinner.

Her scowl deepened. Are you going to tell me what you did today or am I going to have to beat it out of you? Cause I sure feel like a fight.

He proceeded to explain what he had found, that the location he had appeared in corresponded roughly to the place he had been when he had disappeared.

Miname had settled herself on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs violently. So... you think you need to be someplace where you've been before in order for the pendant to work? She scratched her head, I dunno... remember what my dad said, about the lady who owned the pendant before? It sounds like she was using the pendant to go to the future. If you're right... I mean, how would she be able to do that? How could she go to somewhere she'd been before in the future?? Urrgggghhh...can't...think... Miname's brain creaked from unprecedented use.

Kenshin looked up from his work, I don't know de gozaru yo. It's just a theory.

But if you are right... Miname hesitated, It means you could go back if you wanted to. Like, right now. All you'd need to do would be to take my pendant and go someplace you've been before and ask to go back.. right?

Kenshin had gone back to fiddling with the rice cooker. I suppose so

Miname's hands went unconsciously to the pendant around her neck. How strange. Her first impulse had been to take it off and offer it to Kenshin of course - finally, a way to reclaim her life back for herself... but an odd reluctance flooded through her, turning her fingers to lead.

What's wrong with you? she asked herself, I want him out of my hair, don't I?

It really was the oddest thing. An annoying little voice in her head suggested that she would probably miss Kenshin. Even though it had only been a few weeks, she had grown used to his companionship and would miss it. And miss being important. And miss being needed.

Her hand grasped the pendant possessively. I've always got what I wanted in the past, she thought defiantly. If I like things the way they are now, I can keep them this way if I want to. I could lose the pendant... I'm always losing things...

Huh?
The pendant was in her outstretched hand, and she was offering it to Kenshin. Well... here it is - you can use it tomorrow if you like, she said in a small voice.

Kenshin left the kitchen to set the table. Um. Not tomorrow...

Miname put it back on, feeling a little happier.

*****



Notes:
Arrgh. I hate serious bits!!!